Hall Of Fame
by Snoweylily
Summary: When famous people in London start showing up dead, Sherlock Holmes is on the case, despite being in 'Early Retirement'. But soon, things get out of hand, and he starts loosing the battle between right and wrong. What he doesn't know, is while he's making his move, another man, a man in the shadows, is also making a move. One that will cost Mr.Holmes dearly...
1. Chapter 1

**This is my First Sherlock Holmes story!**

**I saw the RDJ version of SH the other day and it was epic!**

**This story is based after AGoS, but before movie num.3 and is entirely set in Sherlock's Point Of View (POV)**

**Hope ye like it :)**

**Rachel**

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CHAPTER 1

The year was 1892. The date was the 13th September, a Friday. An unlucky date most people thought. Most people, but not Sherlock. He simply saw it as an opportunity, as he did every other day. Famous men and women were showing up dead all over London, politicians and professors, governors and mayors, even the rich and wealthy...

And one was on the case, despite having told me, promised me, that he was done with mysteries. For I was his best, and only, friend.

My name is Dr John H Watson.

And this, is where the story begins...


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Throwing the newspaper down in front of Watson, I walked over to the window in his study. "Another professor dead John. One Arnold Whitaker" I said, looking down at the bustling city below as he gave me that I-Know-What-Your-Doing look. "Why are you telling me this Sherlock?" He asked, slowly picking up the paper and glancing through it. I turned back to him, holding my hands behind my back, "just thought you should know". "For what reason?". "Incase you decided to investigate. I can tell you want to" i replied, keeping a straight face and he sighed, standing up and walking over next to me, "I'm done Sherlock. You know that. I gave the mystery game up a long time ago". "Yes, you can take the man out of the mystery but you can't take the mystery out of the man... Or visa versa in your case, the other way around you know. You want to solve this mystery John, you just don't know it yet". "Holmes, your talking nonsense. I haven't heard from you in three months and then you suddenly barge in here and throw a newspaper at me! Your completely mad and if I didn't know you better I'd have sent you straight to the sanatorium" he shouted, flinging the paper at me which I easily caught, "you know, you'd be surprised at how many people actually tell me that". He threw his hands up in frustration before marching over and sitting back down at his desk. Patiently, I waited for him to speak. It wouldn't take long. It never did.

"Why did you ask me here? Why not sent it in the post? Or even have a personal delivery man? Why did you come yourself?" He finally asked. "Because, my dear naive Watson, I don't trust anyone else but myself" I replied. "A paper? You don't trust anyone enough to sent a NEWSPAPER? Something that you can buy AROUND THE CORNER?" He asked as I gave it back to him, "Ah, but you see, this is no ordinary newspaper. Read out page 14 if you please". Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and confusion, he picked up the paper again, turning to the requested page. "Which part?" He asked. "Why Watson, you honestly have to ask? My scrawly script of course". "Your writing. Right" he muttered, "...This doesn't make any sense". "Doesn't make any sense? Doesn't make any SENSE? Of course it makes sense. I wrote it" I replied, "now, come on, read out the first paragraph". "If you insist" he said, turning his attention back to my handwritten notes, "019209, H.G, K, T". "That makes perfectly good sense. You just got to read between the lines Watson" I said and he sighed, "fine, what are the numbers for?". "01 is the day, the first, 92 is this year, 1892, and 09 is the month, the 9th or in other words, September" I replied automatically. "Why is it in the wrong order?" He asked. "Why not?". "Because it's a strange way to put it". "And I'm not the slightest bit strange myself? Moving on" I said, beginning to pace the room. "H.G, what does that stand for?". "Harold Griffiths. One of the men murdered, a politician he was". "And the K?". "Knife. That's how he died... Or rather got killed". "Then the T? What does that mean?" He asked and I smirked, "Thief. That's what he worked as". "He was a thief? But you just said he wa-". "A politician" I said cutting him off, "yes, and he was. But in my views, all politicians are thieves".

"And I presume you have thought up some crazy theory to as why and how he died?" Watson asked and I shook my head, "I'm out of the game John, I promised you that I was done, so now I'm done, finished, goodbye, see you later" I replied and he stared at me suspiciously. "Your doing this case aren't you?". "Of course not, what utter nonsense". "Don't lie to me Sherlock. I can see that familiar old glimmer in your eyes. Your on the case. Even though you swore you were retired". "I prefer the term... Out of action" I replied. "That term still leaves possibilities" he countered and i grinned, turning to him as i stopped pacing, "of course. That term leaves many great, amazing possibilities. For you can never rule anything out can you Watson?".

"Your on the case" he said after another few minutes and I began pacing again, "no, I'm not". "Your doing it aren't you?". "What insanity has overcome you?". "Admit it". "I admit nothing that I have or have not done". "You don't make much sense". "Was there ever a time I did?" I asked and he sighed, "No. You never did, did you... Well tell me, what does Mycroft say about this?". Oh he HAD to go there didn't he? "I have not informed my brother yet" I said simply. "Yet? As in, you will?". "As in, it leaves yet another possibility to whether I shall or shall not do what you request" I replied. "Sherlock" he warned but I ignored him. "Look at me Holmes". Slowly I stopped and turned to him, "yes?". "You must promise me, under any circumstances, you will NOT DO THIS CASE" he said and i sighed, patting him on the shoulder as I headed for the door, "you should know me by now Watson. I don't make promises i might not keep". "Sherlock. Don't. You. Dare". "Nevertheless I shall try my best to ignore the men and women being ruthlessly murdered outside my own back door. Good day Watson". "That's an ORDER Holmes" he calling me back. "I don't take orders Dr. Watson. Not even from the king himself". "What, so that's it? Your going to leave just like that?". "Well not just like that. I need my newspaper back if you would" I replied, walking back up to his desk. "No" he said, taking the newspaper from my reach, "if I give you this paper, your going to do this case and try and solve the mystery". "Fine, keep it. I have another copy" i said, pulling out another paper from the inside of my jacket. "Sherlock. Give" he ordered but I shook my head, heading back to the door for the second time today. "Your impossible" he shouted, throwing the first paper back at me. Smirking, I picked it up, tossing the second paper to him. "There's a very interesting article on page 17. I suggest you check it out". And before he could reply, I shut the door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Once back outside, I headed straight towards the train station. I had to find someplace to stay, and up North seemed as good a place as any. Too many people knew my face around here. And if I was doing this case, I swore to myself I wasn't, who ever was ordering these murders was sure to be after me. Just like old times.

Glancing around, I took in my surroundings. The train cabin I was currently in, was empty thankfully. One door. One window. Two seats. One table. Simple as that. I counted out all the possible exits, not that many to my disliking, before calmly sitting down on the left side of the cabin. It would take 3 minutes for the train to pull off, and another 21 to get to North London. That's 24 minutes, give another 2 for the train to fully stop and I was looking at 26 minutes in total. Twenty six minutes. I could live with that. It would give me time to sort things out.

The click of the door snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked sharply up as a man entered, closing the door behind him and sitting down across from me. He was dressed in a dark suit with glasses and a top hat, and carried a brown briefcase. The outfit completely fitted him to be an important business man... All but his shoes. He shoes, I noticed, had a small streak of mud at the base of each foot, as if someone had tried to hurriedly wash it off but was caught for time. Now the fact that he seemed to be an important man, it would make sense, he had simply been in a rush to get to work, ran through a rain storm, maybe cut through a field or forest. And I wouldn't have taken much notice of it weren't for three tiny little details. Number 1, it hadn't rained today. Number 2, there were no fields or forestry in London. And number 3, business men ALWAYS put their briefcase in the overhead compartments and NEVER sat down without hitching their pants up to prevent creases which later, depending on where you worked, the boss could fire you for. This man, was not indeed, a business man.

Looking back up at the mans face, he caught my eye and smiled slightly. It wasn't one of those hi-im-friendly smiles, nor was it one of the I-dont-want-to-be-here-but-I'll-try type of grins. No, his smile was more of a I-REALLY-hate-you, strained smile. I had seen that smile many times before... All on people who then tried to murder me. Sitting back in my seat, I crossed my legs and grinned madly at him. His features changed from a forced smile, to one of a confused expression. This made me grin even wider. "You, my good sir" I said pointing at him, "are here to kill me". He seemed confused for another few seconds before an emotionless mask took over. "What gave me away?"he asked amused. "Your shoes" I explained and the confusing gaze returned. Sighing, I motioned for him to give me a shoe. He did so rather reluctantly, but his curiously and interest in what I had to say overtook that and he slowly handed me right shoe. He was right handed then. That would come in handy soon. "See here" I said pointing to the mud streak, "that happened recently, no more than an hour I'd say, and since it hasn't rained yet today, it makes no sense. Leading one to believe it was not as recent as one thought. But if your shoes had gotten dirty yesterday or in the past, a real business man would have taken time to clean it. Or else expect to be fired. Therefore it was unlikely you were such man" i continued, before handing him back the shoe, "Your pants was another thing, sitting down without pulling it up makes it crease and wrinkle at the knees which would be yet another way to get singled out in a professional job, which a fine business man such as yourself would like to be, would be a very simple way to get let go. That let me to the assumption that you were used to more simple trousers, yet another way to tell your not a business man. And lastly the briefcase, any respectable man would store it in the presses above. So since your not a business man, the briefcase is where you a currently holding the weapon you will attempt to kill me with. And judging by the size and shape, and how easily you carried it, I'm guessing a knife". "You know, i always wondered what meeting the great Sherlock Holmes would be like" he said, "and I have to say, I'm not disappointed. You truly exceed expectations, being able to figure all that out in seeing me for only 3 or 4 seconds". Closing my eyes, my mind flashed ahead to to the possibilities...

1. He would unclip the briefcase, taking out the knife. 2. He would aim for my neck where i would grab his arm. 3. He would twist his arm, and push against me, now aiming for my heart. 4. I would turn to the side, making him trip. 5. He would turn to me, now angry, and his anger would control his next few moves. 6. I would remain calm and get the knife from him. 7. He would make wild punches at me in which I would dodge. 8. I would have the knife to his neck and if he didn't me what I wanted, I would slit his throat.

Flashing open my eyes I smirked at him, and his confident grin faltered slightly. "They say you can see the future, that you predict what's going to happen" he said and I shook my head, "utter rubbish. I'm simply a very observational man". "I'll be sure to pass that on... After iv killed you". "Correction, after you've ATTEMPTED to kill me" I replied and he laughed, "do you know why my shoes have mud on them? No well I'm goi-". "It's because this morning you digging a hole to bury me in" in said cutting him off and he looked at me surprised, "how on earth do you do that?". "As I said, I'm a very observational man. So no I don't see the future, i predict the future. Judging by my current situation, I think ahead to what is about to happen. And I'm always right". "And have you predicted what's going to happen this time?" He asked and I nodded, "I'm going to kill you if you don't answer my questions". He laughed again, "yea right. I thought you were better than that ". This time I laughed, "that's what they all say... Right before my prediction comes true".


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Unclipping the briefcase and taking the knife out In one swift movement, he lunged at me. Aiming for my throat. Grinning, I easily caught his arm, stopping him in stabbing me. Quickly covering up his surprise, he pulled back, swiping the knife upwards. That i was not expecting. I automatically stepped back but i was too late and the knife caught the side of my face, tearing from my jaw up to just below my eye. Slowly reaching up, I gently poked at it, wincing when it send a waves of pain shooting through my skull. Putting back down my hand, i stared at the bright red blood, before glancing up at a furious assassin. "That wasn't in your prediction was it?" He asked and I stood up, "no. It wasn't. But your angry. And that was". Glaring at me, he charged once again, aiming for my heart. Ah, there we were, back on course. Stepping to the side, he charged into the wall, stumbling back dazed, the knife stuck in the wall next to me. But he quickly regained his balance and tried to hit me. Avoiding his weak throws, I kicked my legs out, tripping him. Thankful for the brief break, I dislodged the knife from the wall and turned back to him. He stared at me in disbelief as I picked him up by he collar of his shirt and pinned him to the wall, the knife on his throat as I smirked at him, "My predictions are never wrong".

"Who do you work for?" I asked, my voice dangerously low. "There's more of them on board" he said, "your a sitting duck". "Who do you work for?" I asked again, slamming him against the wall. "I'll never tell" he replied simply and i presses the knife against his neck, cutting it slightly, "who sent you?". "I-I-I don't know his name... I j-just know he's in France" the man stammered, obviously scared of the thought of being killed. "Where in France?" I asked. "I d-don't know. Paris. I t-think he's in Paris. But he's n-n-not French. He's English". "How do you know him?". "There's an organisation...I-I'm part of them. W-were the p-people who have k-killed all those professors and o-other people... We're c-called the BloodHearts". The BloodHearts... "And the man who sent you, he is the leader of this organisation?" I asked and the assassin nodded. "What does he look like? Who is he?" I asked and he trembled, "I d-dont know. I already told you-u. He's just a face in t-the shadows. No one has ever seen him, and no one knows his name. W-we call him the Master". The Master? Not very original is it? Dragging the man over to the window, i smashed my elbow against it, smashing the glass. "You better hope you can fly" I said, before throwing him out the window as the door rattled. I had barely turned around when the door burst open and three men ran in, all with knives once again. And they didn't look friendly.

"I presume that was your man who I just threw out the window?" I asked and the one in the middle nodded slowly. "Well, sorry bout that" I replied, inching back towards the broken glass as they took a step foreword. "And while I would love to stay and chat" I continued, "I really must be going". With that, I put the knife in my mouth, turning and jumping up onto the window ledge, climbing up onto the trains roof. The rushing wind around me pushed me back, and I slid halfway down the train before stopping as i grabbed onto the end of a cart. Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself up, and slowly began to crawl along, finally finding an open window. Dropping down, I pulled myself into the cart, startling a newly wed couple inside. "Sorry about this" I said, pushing past and opening the door to the hall. "There he is" someone shouted and two men at the end of the corridor turned to me, the third appearing on the other side. Sighing, I threw the knife at man number 3, killing him, before shutting the door and passing the husband and wife again, going back over to the window. "Lovely dress by the way" i said to the woman, pointing at her white wedding gown before pulling myself up into the roof for the second time. A split second later, the two remaining musketeers burst into the room, shooting at me as the couple screamed. Unforcently, one of the goons had a half decent aim, and his knife lodged itself in my leg as I got up. Ignoring the new wound, I rolled over onto the middle of the trains roof, and began pulling myself along again. The BloodHearts, the Master, France. The same three words circling around and around again in my head. I had to go to France and find this Master. I had to solve this case.

About 14 minutes later, the train reached the station. I had stayed on the roof the whole time and even though I had gotten some strange looks from people as I dropped down, I managed to avoid the two assassins as I disappeared into the crowd. Firstly, I had to sort myself out. Secondly, I had to find out the connections between the BloodHearts and their victims. And thirdly, I had to get a place to stay until I got to France. One, two, three. Simple as that. Now I just had to find a luckily, I knew just the guy.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"I can't believe you" Watson shouted when I walked back into his office. I had gotten the train back to main London to see my favourite doctor... And for him to stitch me up. "Hey John" i said cheerily and he stood up angrily, "look at the state of you! And is that... Is that... What happened to your face?". "Oh that? That's just...an accident...". I trailed off, limping over to his desk. "And that? Was that just another accident?" He asked, pointing to the blood stained cloth I had wrapped around my right leg once I'd dislodged the knife. "Accidents Watson. Just accidents. Nothing to worry about... Just maybe large blood loss and probably a lot of stitches" I replied and he sighed, "Sit down Sherlock, I'll get my med bag".

"How in Gods name did this happen?" Watson asked, cleaning away the blood on my face. "Oh, just some guy... with a knife..." I muttered and he sighed again, "And that was an accident? What about your leg, how did that happen?". "Now that WAS an accident, i was on the train, or rather half on it... You see I was climbing out the window, as you do, and the guy had a bad aim at throwing things. So wh-" I started but John cut me off, "You got STABBED?" He yelled and I winced, "yes i got stabbed". He sat up and stared me straight in the eye, "Full story. Now". "...How long you got?" I asked and he checked his watch, "for this... All night". "Good" i replied, "cause your not getting an answer". "Sherlock" he warned but I stood my ground... Or rather... Sat it... "No story" I replied. "Then no treatment" he shot back and I stood up, swaying slightly as I stumbled over to the door, "then I'll find someone else... Or maybe just lie in a ditch and die... Both sound rather good about now". "For gods sake Holmes sit down. At least let me do the stitches" Watson said standing up as well. "No no, I insist, I'm fine" i said, waving my hand breezily at him. "Sherlock Holmes. Sit. Down. NOW" he ordered pointing to the chair. I stared at him for a few seconds, searching for any kind of unsureness but there was none. "Alright, alright" i said shrugging, stumbling back over to the chair, "you know i can't resist that little face of yours". "Your crazy". "I'm mentally hilarious". "Completely lost it". "Just energetic". "Your insane". "I Think differently". "Your too stubborn". "Persistent". "You think into things too much". "I Think of all possible outcomes". "Your annoying". "I'm likeable". "Lonely". "Independent". "Incredibly gifted at angering people". "Their problem". "Your vain". "I like looking nice". "No respect for authority". "Prefer my own assumptions". "And your completely impossible to win an argue a against". "Precisely" I finished grinning and he sighed, "Fine, i give up. Now show me your leg".

Half an hour later and I was all latched up again thanks to Watson's brilliant stitching. I never liked stitches... "Please?" He asked again. "No". "Pleaseeee". "No". "Please, please, please". "Fine". "Really?". "No". "Your cruel Sherlock, did you know that?" Watson asked and I nodded, "I get that a lot". "I would imagine so" he muttered and I sighed, "fine ill tell you". "Seriously?". "Yea. Your going to find out anyway", I replied and he smirked, sitting down behind his desk. "Right... Well where to start..." I murmured, "tell me Watson, have you ever heard of

the BloodHearts?". "No". "Well the BloodHearts are a secret organisation that are responsible for all of the recent deaths" i explained, "and they think I'm trying to solve this case. So they sent four men to kill me on the train. The End". "And you killed them all?" John asked. "Just two. Just the two... The same two who shot and stabbed me" I replied. "And they got you on the train?". "Yep". "And you escaped?". "Positively". "And your NOT doing this case?". "Of course not" I lied, limping over to the door, "and now, i must be off". "You sure your not doing this mystery Sherlock?" He asked. "Certainly not doing this case" I replied. "Well, where can I find you?" He called as I disappeared around the corner. "Don't worry, I'll be there when you need me" I replied, "But until then...I'll be waiting in the shadows".

France. I was going to France. Looking around at the people surrounding me one last time, I stepped onto the ferry bound for France. The boat swayed in the ocean beneath my feet. I never liked boats... Or ships... Or ferries. Too many possibilities for trouble. But I had to get this boat. I had to get to France. No idea what i would do when I got there. But I had to go. I would some how find the secret assassin organisation, and with them i would find the Master. Then... Who knows? I might take down he BloodHearts, I might get every single member arrested, I might even become the man who solved the great London murder mystery. So i was going to France. And i was going to work it out as I go along. It's how I usually solved the case. Just play it by the year. And hopefully, it would work itself out.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

France. Finally I was here. Now I just had to work out my next move...

Paris. The man on the train said the Master was in Paris. But Paris was a large place which would make it more difficult. But the Master was an English man, and that would narrow it down, not by much, but it was a start. A push in the right direction. And that's all I needed.

Excuse moi, madonnadswell, but you could you please point me in the direction of Paris?" I asked, hoping the woman could understand my slightly rusty French . She smiled and pointed straight ahead, "you would prefer English no? Straight ahead until you reach the end of the street, then take a right and the signs will direct you from there". "Merci" I replied, grinning as I kissed her hand before taking off in that direction, leaving her dazed and giggling behind me. She had seen through my French accent easily, and pinpointed it to be English. It had been a while since I had to speak French, and I certainly needed to brush up it again. Otherwise my disguise would never work.

True to her word, the young lady had directed me towards the nearest sign post for Paris, and i found myself staring at a collection of signs, all with there own towns and cities on them. Paris, it turns out, was directly North of me, and thankfully, I spotted a truck going the same way, or so I hoped, that was currently stopped. Glancing around, I ran towards it, jumping into the back trailer and hiding behind a stack of barrels. A few seconds later two middle aged men came out of a nearby shop, one hopping into the drivers seat, the other in the passengers side. And then we were off.

I can't remember falling asleep. I just remember being woken by shouting and shuffling. Great. Slowly looking up from my hiding place, I quickly ducked down again as a man passed by the barrels. They were unloading the stock. And i was hiding behind the stock.

I waited another few minutes to make sure the man had gone before slowly standing up, my legs stiff from crouching down for so long. Thankfully, no one was about and i jumped down onto the road, immediately surrounded by shouting, car engines, and the bustling noises of a city. Paris. I was in Paris. I was here.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

I knew I couldn't simply ask around for the BloodHearts. After all, a secret terrorist assassin organisation hidden deep within the sewers of Paris location, wasn't going to be common word on the street. So i had to ask the right people. And I knew just the guy.

"Mycroft" I said cheerily with a nod, falling into step with my older brother. "Sherlock? What on earth are you doing here?" He asked surprised, turning to me. Putting an arm around his shoulder, I kept him walking, "I could ask you the same thing". "I'm here on a political matter if you must know. Now tell me, what has brought you to France?" He asked again and I sighed, "A long, dreary tale, one which you've see and heard many times before. I need information". "Information? This wouldn't happen to be another case your working on would it? Only iv heard that one Sherlock Holmes was out of the mystery business" he replied and I smirked, switching sides with him, "I never said I was done Mycroft, I simply said I was going into temporary retirement". "You've got another mystery haven't you?" He asked sadly. "Maybe. Maybe not. But my dear other Holmes, I shall need the information wether or not I am or are not currently doing this case in the current situation of time as of now" I replied and he sighed dramatically, rubbing his eyes, "I'm not even going to try and understand that Sherly, but I know you don't give up without getting your way so I shall try to give you what you need". "There we are, that's the spirit" I said happily before suddenly becoming serious again and lowering my voice to a whisper, "what do you know about the murders in London?".

He stared at me suspiciously, "nothing. Why?". "I may or may not have stumbled upon some very crucial... facts... I need to find a man", I whispered. "Do you know his name? It's always a very good place to start". "Do be serious will you? I don't have his name". "Address?". "No". "Appearance?". "No". "...Anything?" Mycroft asked surprised and I nodded slowly, "he goes by the name of The Master. Part of a secret organisation. Their leader in fact. Very hush-hush". "The Master you say? Well with a name like that it shouldn't be very hard. I mean it's not exactly very common is it. He mu-". "Do you or do you not have any information?" I asked cutting him of as I stood in front of him, blocking his way. He stared at me for a few moments, looking me up and down, as if searching for something, before replying, "No. I don't... What happened your face by the way? And your walking with a limp aren't you?". "You always were the more observant one. I was always the most energetic... But yes. These particular incidents happened when I went searching for said information. Or rather what they thought I was searching for. And now, I must be off" I replied, before turning abruptly and walking back down the way we came.

"Oh and Sherly?" He called after me, "do try and take care of yourself. It would be rather dreadful if anything happened to you". "No promises" I muttered, disappearing down a side ally. "Pssst. Hey. You" someone hissed and I spun around to find a wether-beaten old man sitting down next to me. "You lookin for the Master I ere?" He asked and I stared at him innocently. He laughed, a deep, throaty laugh, before speaking again, "No point n tryin to hide it boy. I knows who you are. Your that great Sherlock Holmes fella aren't ya? Yea. I thought so's. The names Reginald, but nobody's called me that fore years. You can call me Reggie". I stared in bewilderment at the crazy old man in front of me and he laughed again. "I got some information for ya if ya please" he continued, "but it'll cost ya". "...what kind of information?" I asked.

"Ha. I knew it wouldn't take long. Nah, i got some information bout the Master. But ya gotta keep your voice low. He has people everywhere". "How do I know your not one of those people?" I asked and he grinned a toothless smile, "you are better than they say. Quiet a sharp lad ain't ya? Smart. Good instincts. That'll get ya places. But no, the Masters people... Well there a whole new kind of evil. They don't shoot yea. They only use-". "Knives" I finished for him and he looked at me in surprise, "you've seen them?". "Lets just say iv had a rather... Bumpy... train ride". "And they didn't kill yea?". "They tried". "But ya escaped? Did ya kill em?". "Two of out of four" i replied and he tutted with disappointment, "they all deserve to die. The whole bleemin lot of em". "Information. You said you have information?" I asked, and he grinned again, "oh yes. Lots of information. But as I said, it'll cost ya". "Whats your price?" I asked and before I had a chance to react, he had grabbed my hand, and sliced open my palm in three different places with a knife. Then he let go of my hand, cleaned the blood of the knife and that was it. "...And that was for?" I asked through gritted teeth, ripping a piece of cloth from the inside of my jacket and wrapping it tightly around my blood covered hand. "That was to see if you've got the strength to do this" he replied, suddenly serious. "The strength? To do this case? Iv done many before" I replied, tying the makeshift bandage with my teeth. "Yes. But none up against this strong an opponent. You don't get it do ya? These aren't your average criminals. These guys got power, weapons, people in high places. Their invincible against EVERYBODY" he said, "Except you".


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

I stared at him confused, "me?". "Yes. You. Your there one single weakness" he replied. "...Why me?". "Don't you see? You've got everythin you need to take them down. Your stubborn, never give up, charismatic, very independant, do things your own way, determinative, high intelligence, extremely observant and perspective, you can focus and concentrate on a single topic being able to ignore all distractions and your able to predict humane behaviour. Your strong, can tolerate pain, as iv just shown. You can fight in over 5 different ways, and your both physically and mentally way above average. Plus, your not scared of anyone, the king, the police nor the bad guys. You've got everythin kid". "...Thanks I think" I replied and he glared at me, "I'm not complimentin you boy. I'm statin the obvious. You've got guts, your brave, and you've got the courage to fight these guys". A movement caught the corner of my eye and I jumped to the. Side just as a knife lodged itself in the wall where only a split second before, my head had been. "Hey, Reggie?" I asked. "Yea?". "How well can you fight?". "Not at all, but I can scream and overturn things". "...That'll do".

Dislodging the knife from the wall, I flipped it over in my hand, getting the feel for it before throwing it straight at the stall down the end of the ally. A man came cell out from behind it, dead, and holding his own knife. "There here" I muttered, taking both knives before turning back to Reggie, "can you run?". He stood up and stretched, "I can run better than I fight". "Then it's time to go".

Quickly taking his arm, we began running down the alleyway only for three men to jump out at the end. "Gentleman, nice day isn't it?" I asked cheerfully as they closed in on us. "Perfect day to spill some blood" one of the men sneered, raising his knife.

1. He'll throw the knife at Reggie 2. I push him out of the way 3. I get the mans knife and throw it back at him 4. It kills him and then it's 2:2 5. The other two aim for me. 6. I kill them first 7. We escape

Grinning, I turned to him, as he threw the knife at my new acquaintance. Pulling Reggie out of the way, I ducked quickly and the assassins knife went over my head. Turning around, I picked up the mans knife and threw it at him before he had a chance to react. He fell to the ground, the knife in his heart. "Ye wanna rephrase that?" I asked turning to the other two, my hand slowly tightening around my grip on the two remaining knives. "No. I think we'll settle on spilling two more men's blood" one of them replied and I smirked, "I couldn't have said it better myself". Stepping to the side, I threw my hand with the two knives out, letting go. Both blades met their targets perfectly. "There'll be more on the way" i said turning to face Reggie... But he wasn't there. Looking around confused, I noticed a small white slip if paper on the ground where he had been standing. Slowly I bent down, picking it up and unfolding it...

*Since this is going to be hard,

I'm going to make it more difficult for you

To get more information

You must solve this riddle too

There shall be more clues along the way

Each one is in a different place

One clue for each and every day

But knowing you, you'll do them straight away

Your first clue is easy and true

Just find the stall that sells birds, and owls too

And you'll see one that's rather blue

The note on him is just for you

Reggie*

A riddle... Reggie had given me a riddle. To get the information. I always did like riddles. Lets see...The writing was large, scrawly and slanted to the left, indicating the old man to be secretive and keeps his feelings to himself yet he was honest and very outgoing. But there was no trickery or lies behind the words. Ok, I might as well do it then. Lets the riddles begin.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

"Just find the stall that sells birds, and owls too. And you'll see one that's rather blue" I muttered to myself, folding up he note and putting it my inside jacket pocket. I already had it mesmerised but it might come in handy later. A stall that sells birds and owls. Limping down the street, I began looking around. It was market day in this part of Paris and there was MANY stalls. They sold anything and everything, kitchen pots, plants, fruit. Everything. I found a few bird stalls, but none sold owls as well, and not many had blue coloured birds. Nothing.

Taking out the note again, I stared at it. There had to be something directing me. It was written in English, not French, and there were no spelling mistakes, nor any upper case or lower case letters mixed up. That crossed them off. But there had to be a secret message somewhere. But there was nothing.

Putting the note away, my eyes caught the cloth on my other hand. To test strength he had said. To see my pain tolerance. But I hadn't reacted to it, so wouldn't it have made more sense to do something else? Like to hit me or something? No, there was something else. Something different. Unwrapping the blood-covered cloth, I stared at the three cuts. One long line, two shorter lines, all meeting at a point... An arrow.

He had slit my hand open in the shape of an arrow. Grinning, I made my way back to the alleyway we had met. The three bodies were still there, no one had noticed them yet. Ignoring the dead men, I walked over to where Reggie had been when he decided to sketch on my skin. Putting my hand out in the same place where he had held it, I looked down at the arrow. It was pointing northwest. That's the direction the stall would be in, I was sure of it. So wrapping the cloth back around my hand to stop the bleeding, I started walking down the street in that way. Time to find my blue bird.

20 minutes later, i found what I hoped was the stall Reggie had written about. It sold birds and owls and had about 3 or 4 blue birds, all different shapes and sizes. "Can I help you?" Someone asked and I spun around to face a woman staring suspiciously at me. "Ah... Yes. You can. I had a friend here not so long ago, he was interested in buying a bird. One in particular caught his eye, a blue coloured one, but I'm afraid I can't remember which one" i said, the lies coming easily to me. She nodded slowly, walking over to the different cages. "I get many people In here looking at birds. You'll have to be more specific. What does your friend... Look like?" She asked. "Male, late 50's, black, greying hair" in explained and she nodded, "I know the man. He was in here yesterday, looking at Magic over there". Following her gaze, my eyes rested on the largest of the birds. "Her names Magic?" I asked as the woman went over unlocking the cage. "His. Magic's a male African Grey Parrot. Strange little fella. His kind are allways grey in colour. How's he's blue is like-". "Magic" I finished and she smiled, "yes. Like magic. He's a very willing little fello. Quiet obedient". Opening up the cage door, she stepped back, and Magic hopped out onto the ground.

Grinning at the bird, I whistled and he looked up at me, whistling back, imitating me. I whistled again, and he copied me once more. Reaching up, I patted my shoulder and he flew up to me, perching on my jacket. "He's taken quiet a liking to you, I'm impressed" the woman said smiling, as Magic rubbed his head affectionally against my hair. "My friend will be delighted with him" I said. "How much is he?". "For you? Free" she replied, "I rarely get someone in here that their birds happy with. And Magic seems to love you. So he's free". "...seriously?" I asked and she nodded, "free. He will eat a lot though. Bread, seeds, berries. Things like that, he'll eat no problem. There a very stable breed, won't scare easily, doesn't mind loud noises". Doesn't mind loud noises? That means a gun wouldn't scare him them. And we were going to be coming across a lot of those. "And he talks. ALOT" the woman continued, "if you tell him to be quiet, he will eventually shut up. But once he starts, he's hard to stop". "Much like yourself Sherlock isn't he?" Someone said and I turned to find none other than Dr. John Watson.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"Thank you, once again, for Magic" I told the woman before quickly turning and ushering John back down the street. "Watson, how good to see you" I said, "I thought you were in England or otherwise engaged". "You said you were Holmes" he hissed and I turned to him innocently, "An I not?". "There's policemen swarming around a small side ally in the market square. Three men found dead. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that would you?" He asked and I sighed, "you see it's a very complicated story. The-". "Don't you dare use your fancy words to try and confuse me into agreeing Sherlock. Did you or did you not, kill those men?" He asked, cutting me off. "Awww but John, they tried to kill me first" I whined and he glared at me, but couldn't hold back a smile, "your like a kid sometimes you know that?". "But I'm your favourite kid" i said happily and he sighed, "your the only guy I know who acts like a kid".

"Well Magic, this is Dr. John H Watson. Watson, this is Magic. Say hello" I said and he turned to me, "it's a bird Sherlock. I'm not greeting a bird". "John" I scolded, "be nice". He rolled his eyes before turning to Magic who was still comfortably sitting on my shoulder, "bird". "Human" Magic chirped and Watson jumped back in surprise as i laughed my head off. "It...it...it TALKED" he said shocked and I laughed at his confused expression. "Yea, Magic talks. Now be nice and talk to him". "It's a BIRD. What on Earth could I talk to it about?". "Magic is a 'he' not an 'it'. And I don't know. Talk about seeds or feathers or something". "No way" John replied shaking his head and Magic copied him, "no way". "Hey. No mocking the humane Magic. Bold bird" I scolded, shooing him off my shoulder. Cheering angrily, he flew up to the sky above us, but still followed us. "So what possessed you to buy the bird?" Watson asked. The note.

Whistling, I looked up at Magic, "come here boy". "He's not a dog Sherlock" Watson muttered but Magic came anyway, landing on my shoulder. "Lets see" I muttered, patting my good hand and he happily hopped onto it. "What happened your hand?" John asked. "Oh that?" I asked airily, "just a crazy old dude decided to scar an arrow shape into my palm to stay there for entirety so I would never forget him of this current little riddle game I'm playing which is why i got Magic for the next clue". He stared at me confused, "an old man carved an arrow shape into your hand?". I nodded, smirking as I spotted a small white note tied around Magics leg. "Sorry buddy" I muttered, untying the twine holding it in place, "got it". Taking it off his leg, he hopped back onto my shoulder, looking down at the paper with interest. As was John. "The next clue" i explained, unrolling it.

*As you've gotten this far

I must congratulate

But it's getting harder

So please don't wait

You must find the next clue

Before its too late

I'm placing it now

In a high up place

Next to a river

This clue can be found

A tourist attraction

Reaching from sky to ground

Reggie*

Time for round 2. "That's his clue?" Watson asked, handing it back to me and I nodded, "yes. Rather simple really". "I don't get you" he said confused. "Think Watson, think. High up place. Next to a river. A tourist attraction" I replied but he still looked confused. Putting my arm around his shoulder I steered him towards central Paris, "tell me, my dear Watson, have you ever seen the Eiffel tower?".


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

About an hour later, and we were standing at the top of the tower, looking down at the matchstick sized people bustling about below. "What now?" Watson asked and I sighed, glancing over at the time, "Now. We wait". "Excuse me sir?" Someone asked and turned to find a waiter standing behind me, "yes?". "The gentleman at table 13 wished for me to give you this" he said, handing me a note before disappearing. Smirking, I unfolded it.

*Since your here

I thought I should warn you,

The BloodHearts are near

And trying to kill you

I had to write this quick

So excuse the rhyming

But you got to move now

Or else you'll die here

My next clue was done in haste

So move now, there's no time to waste

A Michelangelo, a Da Vinci, and a Leonardo too

The clues on the bench, waiting for you

Reggie*

"What does it say?" Watson asked as i quickly put it in my pocket, looking around just as four tough looking guys entered the towers restaurant. "We gotta move" I said quietly, calmly walking towards the other exit. "What? Sherlock whats happening?" He asked chasing after me. "I'll explain when we get out" I replied, trying to ignore the voice in he back of head saying IF we get out. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "No. Your telling me NOW. I'm sick of your disappearing acts and mysterious ways. Your telling me right now, or else I'm not moving". "Duck" I said. "What?". "For God sakes John, DUCK" I yelled pulling him down behind a table as three knives hit the wall above us. His face went pure white. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" He shouted at me as I grabbed the knives from the wall. "ANSWER ME HOLMES" he yelled as people started screaming and running towards the exits, "NOW". Wow, I'd NEVER seen John this angry. "Im doing the London murder case and got involved with a group of assassins who REALLY want to kill me" i said turning to him and he punched me in the jaw. "Ok I deserved that" I admitted before catching his hand as he tried to hit me again, "but not that". "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" He shouted. "Calm down John" I said, throwing a knife on each word. "I have a WIFE Holmes. I have a FAMILY. What will they do if I die? What will Mary think?" He asked. "I don't know. Ask her" I shot back, looking up and ducking again as a knife was thrown at my head, "now stop yelling at me and make yourself busy". Grabbing the knife I handed it to him, "can you throw these?". "No. Not at al- SHERLOCK WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" He shouted as I turned and started running towards the nearest man, "I hate these guys. So I plan to kill them".

Opening the window, I ordered Magic out, "go on boy. I'll come back for you I promise". He chirped and turned his head to the side confused but hoped out onto the ledge and I closed the window behind him, bending down as a knife smashed against the same window. "Hey morons" I shouted, picking up the knife, "How many Idiots does it take to kill a Holmes?". They turned to me and that's when Watson made his move. He jumped up, going over to one of the remaining two men and slit his throat. And before the other man could react, I threw the knife at him, the blade going through his neck and sticking there. They both fell down dead. "How many idiots DOES it take to kill a Holmes?" Watson asked looking up at me. "None. I'm already dead" i muttered sadly, going over to the window and letting in Magic, surprised to see a note tied to his leg. "Where did this come from?" I asked quietly. "The Master. The Master" Magic chirped and I froze. The Master. "Sherlock?" Watson asked quietly but I didn't reply, instead I slowly opened he note.

*I heard you like riddles

So let me rhyme one for you

You better back off now

Or your friend and his wife will die too

Horrible torture they'll both go through

And their painful death will be because of you

I'll make sure i tell them it was all your fault

And they'll believe me I'm sure and die of hurt

You've been given a warning

The next wont be nice

So drop this case now

If you value your life

Let me put this simply

And hope you understand

2pm tomorrow alone

In central station grand

The Master*

"Sherlock?" Watson asked again and I turned to him, putting the note in my pocket. He looked at me with a mixture of being frightened, and being shocked. He had never seen me even slightly scared before. And right now, I was completely, absolutely, positivity... Terrified.

"What's happened?" He asked slowly. "You got to go" I said flatly, turning back to Magic and patting my shoulder, where he happily hopped on. "What?" John asked. "You have to leave. Now" I said coldly. "But I only just got here. What has happened? Is it y-". "NOW WATSON. I don't want you here. I never did. This is my case and mine alone. Now GO" I said angrily, putting as much venom into the words as possible. The harsh words froze like ice in the room, and I could picture the hurt look on Johns face. But then there was shuffling, a few footsteps, and a door closing. I lasted about 10 seconds before breaking down and collapsing to the ground. My only friend thinks i hate him and betrayed him. But i had to do it. I had to tell him those things. For his safety. For his own good. He would be on a boat back to England and would be reunited with his loving wife. If he stayed here with me, both him and Mary would die. A horrific, pain filled death... All because of me. Id rather have him think I betrayed him and hate me for eternity than die because of me. I would keep Dr John H Watson and his family safe if its the last thing Ill do.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Taking out Reggie's note, I began walking down the street outside. A Michelangelo, a Da Vinci, and a Leonardo too, The clues on the bench, waiting for you. Paintings and sculptors... The louvre? Worth a shot. Putting the note back in my pocket, my hand brushed against the Masters note. Slowly I took it out, reading over it again. 2pm, grand central station. I was going to go, as stupid as I knew it was, and I was going to end this once and for all.

Angrily ripping the note in half, I dropped the two pieces in the bin next to me before heading off towards the Louvre. I would sort this mess out. And i was going to do it tomorrow at 2pm with the Master. I was going to win. I was going to beat him at his own game.

Slowly walking around each exhibit in the art museum, I finally found what I was looking for. A room that had pieces of Art from each artist Reggie had mentioned. Michelangelo. Da Vinci. And Leonardo. Walking over to the single bench, I sat down, secretly reaching under with my hand, looking for paper or some sort of note. What I found, was a gun. A small handgun. Keeping my face emotionless, I made sure no one was around before slipping it into the inside of my jacket out of view. Reaching back under the bench, I found the note.

*I see you've got rid of your friend

What ever for?

Has it to do with the BloodHearts?

Then you must tell me more

The Master has a habit

Of making threats

On family and loved ones

Usually about deaths

I believe that's why you got rid of John

But he won't stay away for long

Nor will I, you should know

I'm by your side , forever more

Reggie*

Smiling slightly, I put away the note. At least i still had one friend.

"Nice day isn't it?" Someone asked sitting down next to me. He had swapped the rags for a fine suit, the beard was gone, and he had dropped the French accent, letting his true London voice come through, but I immediacy knew it was still Reggie. "It is" I agreed nodding and he glanced down at my bandaged hand, "what happened to that?". "You probably don't believe me, but a crazy old man cut my hand open down an ally earlier today. In the shape of an arrow as it happens" i replied and he nodded, "happened to me before too. Quiet a strange old man he was". Grinning, now with a full set of teeth, he held out his hand, "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Reginald Whitaker". Grinning back, I shook his hand, "Sherlock Holmes".

"So what has the great Sherlock Holmes got lined up in this case?" Reggie asked as we walked down the street. Reaching into my pocket, I took out the Masters note, handing it to him. "...Are you going to go?" He finally asked, handing it back to me. "I have to" I replied quietly. "You never HAVE to do anything" he said and I smiled slightly, "that's what I used to think too... Before all this". "He'll kill you". "Then I'll just have to kill him first". "You know it won't be that easy" he pointed out and I nodded slowly, "I can... Arrange something". "You got a plan".

"Might or might not. Depends on whose asking" in replied with a smirk. "And if I'm the one asking?". "Then you should know I plan going out with a fight". "There we are. See? You seriously got to get out of retirement lad. It doesn't suit you" he said. "I didn't retire... In was just taking a break". He stared at me skeptically. "Alright I retired, damn you" I admitted and he smiled, "just promise me you won't get yourself killed". I stared at the man walking next to me. Reginald Whitaker... Whitaker... "He was your brother wasn't he?" I asked and Reggie looked up at me, "who?". "Arnold Whitaker. The latest murder. They killed him trying to get to you. Because you used to be part of the BloodHearts. You knew too much" I replied and he smiled weakly, "nothing ever gets last you does it Holmes? But yes. He was my brother". "And you want revenge" I said, speaking the unspoken words. He nodded slowly, "my brother did not deserve to die. Not because of me. And I'm not safe until their gone. I found out they were still in Paris, but I couldn't do it alone". "So you waited for me" I finished quietly and he nodded, "I knew this case was too good for you to miss. So i waited, lingering around Malfoy Holmes. Waiting for you to show". "And I showed". "Yes. You did. And now, we're about to take down the BloodHearts".


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 14

3:59. Central Grand Station. Iv never been late to anything in my life. So I came one minute early. And stood in front of the time board, as if searching for the train I need. Then the bells chimed 2:00pm and I felt someone brush past me, slipping something into my hand. Another note.

*I hear you've gotten help

For a man that I want dead

But be aware, there's no time to spare

A warning I have said

2pm. Central Station

I see you have come

But this is where we shall not meet

For i thought you were done

Twenty paces to your right

Another three straight on

You'll find a room that I'll be in

But you better hurry before I'm gone

The Master*

Twenty paces to my right. Three more steps straight ahead. Stopping at said location, I looked up at the door In front of me. The Master was behind this door. Wether alone, with guards, or planning to ambush me, I didn't know. But he was there. I knew it.

Knocking on the door would buy be time, so I gave three sharp knocks, hoping Reggie had gotten there in time. A second later, the door opened, and I was told to come in. Putting on a grin, I determinately strode into the room, trying to look as confident as possible. It would confuse them. Make them feel threatened and imitated. And thats just want I wanted.

"Sherlock Holmes. How great to finally meet you" someone said, their back facing me, standing in front of a fireplace, the red flames the only light in the room. Hey, I was going to die anyway, so I might as well some fun first. Taking off my top hat, I bowed, smirking at the man, "sorry if I can't say the same about you". He laughed slightly but the sound didn't suit him. His laugh was sad and mournful. Not happy and cheery like it should be. "Very good Mr. Holmes. I was warned of your... Different... Personality" The Master said turning to face me. He was old, greying hair, around 60 years old if not more. "All good things I hope?" I asked, putting back on my hat and straightening up. "Some good. Some bad... Some useful" he replied. I didn't like the way he said 'useful'.

"Oh? And what would be my bad qualities?" I asked. "Your stubborn. Persistent. And never back down" he replied coldly and I grinned, "i would call those good traits to have. But you are correct none the less". "And then your good points... Not the ones good for you though. Only the ones good for me" he said, grinning evilly. Ok i didn't like the way he said that either. "And those would be?" I asked. "Your fears Mr. Holmes. Fears, worst nightmares, things that make you breakdown and cry like a little girl. Everything I could use against you". Forcing myself to keep calm, I smirked at him, "and those would be?". "Oh come now Mr. Holmes. Everyone has fears. One of yours is to loose control of a situation. To have no power, no control, over the current happenings". To loose control... No. I would NOT loose control. Not again. Not this time. Not ever. I would NOT let him beat me. He wasn't going to win. Not this time. "Ah. You understand now don't you?" He asked smirking, "And there's another thing too". "Which is?" I asked dryly. "You seem to... Have a high pain tolerance... From what iv heard, you never stay down, no matter to what extent your injuries are". "I would call that a good thing for me and not you". "Yes, it is. But not today" he replied, before snapping his fingers. Three strong men grabbed my arms in a vice like grip. One which I knew i couldn't get out of. I was already loosing control... Rolling up his sleeves, The Master walked over to me, grinning. "Because today Mr. Holmes. I'm going to test that theory".


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 15

Punch after punch. Kick after kick. He treated me like a punching bag. So far I had about three broken ribs I guessed, a very painful arm, most likely fractured, a broken nose, a split lip, and various bruises and cuts around my body. I had lost control.

Punching me in the jaw again, the Master grinned, standing back and admiring his work. "That's going to be sore in the morning. Giving up yet Mr. Holmes?" He asked and I spat out blood at him, "you hit like a girl old man". He glared at me for that. But I want done yet, "Seriously, iv been hit better by an old lady. And she just had a handbag" I continued, "but as you said. We all have our faults. One of your worse qualities is the fact you hit like a two year old". "I swear to god Holmes. If yo-". "Ah ah ah, no swearing. It's not polite. And nor is hitting a 27 year old man. So if you would be so kind as to let me go" I said cutting him off. He was literally going red in the face. Wow he was angry. "Drop him". And just like that, the three men holding me back disappeared and I collapsed onto the ground.

"I'm surprised Mr. Holmes. I thought you'd have more fight In you" the Master said, kicking me mercilessly in the stomach, "but now your broken". "I'm not broken. I simply don't want to hit an old man" i choked out, gasping for breath. He glared at me before taking out a sharp yet slender knife, "how well can you resist against knives though?". Looking up at him, I forced a smirk, "probably better than you, that's for sure". He knelt down next to me, "someday that mouth of yours is going to get you killed" he whispered, "or else severely injured. I'm going for an in between result". "In between?" I asked and be nodded, putting the knife over the fire, "I'm going for a... 99% dead look on you. I'm going to hurt you so much that you'll be begging for it to end. Then I'm going to leave you there and watch you suffer". Taking the knife from the fire, the metal blade now scalding hot, he snapped his fingers again. A second later, the three guards came back over, two pinning me to the ground while the third held down my shoulders with one hand and clasped the other over my mouth. "I'm curious" the Master said grinning sadistically at me, "what would happen if i... oh i don't know... stabbed you?". My muffled screams echoed through the building.

Pain... So much pain... And fire... There was fire too... The knife... He was stabbing me... My legs... My arms... He was stabbing me... With the knife... That scalding, burning, hot knife... He headed it over the fire... And the pain... So, so much pain...

"I think iv made a nice pattern over your skin" the Master said happily, "let him go". The three men disappeared once again and I groaned, rolling over and coughing up blood. "Feel like quitting yet Mr. Holmes?" He asked. "Go to hell" I choked out, gasping for breath. I couldn't breathe... Why couldn't I breathe... I wanted to breathe... But there was no air... "It seem you really do last a while don't you?" He asked sadly, kicking my leg, sending yet another piercing shot of pain shuddering through my whole body. Why couldn't I just die all ready? No... Stop thinking like that... I was NOT going to die... I was going to survive this... And I was going to go back to England... Explain everything to John... Maybe even live to meet his first kids... But I was going to get through this. I was going to win.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 16

With a new wave of determination flowing through me, I looked up at the Master and grinned. His smirk faltered slightly, "what? What are you grinning at?". I grinned even wider at his confusion, and he took a step back, very much afraid. "I just... Um... Should probably tell you something..." I said laughing, pulling myself to my feet, leaning against the wall for support. "What? What are you talking about?" He asked frantically and I laughed again, "I'm not alone".

Just then, 11 police officers burst through the door, guns raised, and shouting for everyone to put there hands behind their heads. "You... You... YOU IDIOT" the Master shouted at me, "EVERYONE. NOW". About 15 of his men emerged from the shadows, all with knives. Let he battle begin.

Ducking as I knife flew over my head, I grabbed it, pulling it out of the wall and throwing it back to his owner. It killed the BloodHearts assassin straight away. The fight had been going on for at least half an hour. The police against the BloodHearts. The cops against the assassins. Thankfully, the policemen realised I was with them and didn't try to kill me as well. So far.

We were all most there. All most done. All most the winners. And then... We had won. The BloodHearts lay on the floor around us, dead. Some with bullet holes from the cops, some with knives from me. Most with knives. We had won. The BloodHearts were done. Gone. Finished. "Change of plan Holmes". All but one. Everyone in the room froze. The new cops stopped cheering about there first victory, the more seasoned stopped nodding thanks at one another for saving their hide, and the top police men... Well, they didn't do anything. All eyes were on the two men in the centre of the room. Me. And the Master.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 17

"You thought you'd win didn't you?" The Master asked from behind me, and I heard the definite click of a gun being clocked. He had a gun. And it was pointed at my head. But I had my back facing him. And that gave me an advantage. "I know I'll still win" I replied calmly, raising my hands above my head, and he laughed madly, "your still going to loose Holmes. The worlds greatest detective, dying, at my hands". A few murmurs went through the police force, "THE Sherlock Holmes?" Or "That's actually him?" Or the occasional "Oh My God. We just fought with THE Sherlock Holmes" from the rookies. But they all quickly shut up as the Master yelled, "SILENCE".

"You are going to die" he told me as I slowly reached inside my jacket. "And it's going to be because of me". "Think about what your saying Harrison" i replied and I felt the gun lower slightly. "How do you... How you know my name?" He asked quietly. "You were a knife-thrower in the circus. But that was a long time ago wasn't it Charles?" I asked. "How... How do you know all that?" He asked shocked. "Charles Harrison. Born 12th May 1832. Ran away to the Maximillan Circus when you were just 7 years old. You became the world famous Knife-Thrower under the name of Mr. Saethet. Rearrange those letters, you get The Master, what your now know as. The circus shut down after another 15 years. And you wanted revenge on the people who caused it. Iv done my research". Slowly I took out the paper I had kept since the day I went to Watson's study, and dropped it on the floor next to me, kicking it back to him without turning around. "What's this? A newspaper? What's that got to anything?" Charles asked picking it up. "Page 14" I replied, "that's the list of people you've killed".

He opened it in amazement, "this is utter gibberish". "So you think. First line if you will". "019209, H.G, K, T" he said slowly and I repeated what I had told John all that time before, "Harold Griffiths. Died on the 1st September 1892 by knife wounds. He was a thief. In other words, a politician". Some of the policemen laughed at that. "You killed him because he was the man who thought you had no hope in being a knife thrower" I explained and I saw the cops nod to the side of me. "The next man" I continued, "Arnold Whitaker. Killed on the 23rd August. Knifes wounds yet again. He was a professor. And he's the brother of the man you want to kill". "This doesn't change anything. I'm still go-" the Master started. "Next man" I said loudly, cutting him off, "Benjamin Walkers. 17th August. Knife wounds. Another professor". I ticked off the men one by one, "Robert Grant. 10th August. Knife. Mayor of a small town up North. He got in the way. Philip Greensway, 3nd August, knife, 2nd richest man in London. Harry Tomlinson, 27th July, knife, another politician, humiliated you in front of your mentor. James Car-".

"ENOUGH" Charles yelled, cutting me off. I felt the gun raise back to my head, a few meters away. Slowly, I reached inside my pocket again. "YOU ARE GOING TO DIE" he shouted, clocking the gun once again, "AND IM GOING TO KILL YOU". "You really are gone crazy aren't you Charles?" I asked calmly as my hand locked around the gun Reggie had given me. It had one bullet. Buts that's all I needed.

"Your a knife thrower Charles Harrison. You don't have that good an aim with gun" i said slowly, silently clocking my own gun. "DON'T. CALL. ME. THAT" he yelled. His anger was taking over his actions. He was loosing control. "It's time to end this" he said quietly, and I smirked, "i couldn't agree more". I spun around, gun raised, my finger on the trigger just as he pulled his own. A single shot rang out.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 18

"You thought you'd win didn't you?" The Master asked from behind me, and I heard the definite click of a gun being clocked. He had a gun. And it was pointed at my head. But I had my back facing him. And that gave me an advantage. "I know I'll still win" I replied calmly, raising my hands above my head, and he laughed madly, "your still going to loose Holmes. The worlds greatest detective, dying, at my hands". A few murmurs went through the police force, "THE Sherlock Holmes?" Or "That's actually him?" Or the occasional "Oh My God. We just fought with THE Sherlock Holmes" from the rookies. But they all quickly shut up as the Master yelled, "SILENCE".

"You are going to die" he told me as I slowly reached inside my jacket. "And it's going to be because of me". "Think about what your saying Harrison" i replied and I felt the gun lower slightly. "How do you... How you know my name?" He asked quietly. "You were a knife-thrower in the circus. But that was a long time ago wasn't it Charles?" I asked. "How... How do you know all that?" He asked shocked. "Charles Harrison. Born 12th May 1832. Ran away to the Maximillan Circus when you were just 7 years old. You became the world famous Knife-Thrower under the name of Mr. Saethet. Rearrange those letters, you get The Master, what your now know as. The circus shut down after another 15 years. And you wanted revenge on the people who caused it. Iv done my research". Slowly I took out the paper I had kept since the day I went to Watson's study, and dropped it on the floor next to me, kicking it back to him without turning around. "What's this? A newspaper? What's that got to anything?" Charles asked picking it up. "Page 14" I replied, "that's the list of people you've killed".

He opened it in amazement, "this is utter gibberish". "So you think. First line if you will". "019209, H.G, K, T" he said slowly and I repeated what I had told John all that time before, "Harold Griffiths. Died on the 1st September 1892 by knife wounds. He was a thief. In other words, a politician". Some of the policemen laughed at that. "You killed him because he was the man who thought you had no hope in being a knife thrower" I explained and I saw the cops nod to the side of me. "The next man" I continued, "Arnold Whitaker. Killed on the 23rd August. Knifes wounds yet again. He was a professor. And he's the brother of the man you want to kill". "This doesn't change anything. I'm still go-" the Master started. "Next man" I said loudly, cutting him off, "Benjamin Walkers. 17th August. Knife wounds. Another professor". I ticked off the men one by one, "Robert Grant. 10th August. Knife. Mayor of a small town up North. He got in the way. Philip Greensway, 3nd August, knife, 2nd richest man in London. Harry Tomlinson, 27th July, knife, another politician, humiliated you in front of your mentor. James Car-".

"ENOUGH" Charles yelled, cutting me off. I felt the gun raise back to my head, a few meters away. Slowly, I reached inside my pocket again. "YOU ARE GOING TO DIE" he shouted, clocking the gun once again, "AND IM GOING TO KILL YOU". "You really are gone crazy aren't you Charles?" I asked calmly as my hand locked around the gun Reggie had given me. It had one bullet. Buts that's all I needed.

"Your a knife thrower Charles Harrison. You don't have that good an aim with gun" i said slowly, silently clocking my own gun. "DON'T. CALL. ME. THAT" he yelled. His anger was taking over his actions. He was loosing control. "It's time to end this" he said quietly, and I smirked, "i couldn't agree more". I spun around, gun raised, my finger on the trigger just as he pulled his own. A single shot rang out.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 19

I watched, not moving, as the bullet hit him dead on his heart. He stumbled back, the gun falling from his grip as he stared at me in shock, "you...y-you won". "I told you I would" I said quietly, lowering my handgun, "See you in hell". Then the adrenalin that had kept me going fading, and I fell onto my knees, all my injuries suddenly coming back to me. I faintly remember someone shouting my name but I was allready fading.

"If you die again I swear to god..." someone muttered, slapping me across the face. Hey I knew that voice... "Again?" Someone asked... I knew that one too. "Yes. Again. He jumped off a waterfall last time. Time before that was in a train with a bunch of gypsies". "J-John?" I asked, shaking my head to get rid of the dizziness. "Sherlock? Yes, it's me. Stay awake ok? Ambulance is on it's way" Watson replied. "Reggie?" I asked. "Yea, I'm here too". "...wh-where's Magic?" I asked confused as my vision cleared. I was leaning up against the wall, John and Reggie on either side and cops swarming around the place. "Of course only you could be this close from dying and care about the bird" he muttered, "he's safe. That's all you need to know". "...do i h-have to go to h-hospital?" I asked and Watson laughed, "obviously. Your half dead if not three quarters". "H-how dya f-find me-e?" I asked coughing and he took out a piece of paper, "The Masters note. I followed you after you left the Eifel Tower. Saw you get rid of it. I knew it had to be the reason that you told me to leave. So I read it". "I'm… s-sorry" I mumbled and he sighed, "you didn't want Mary or I to die. Your actions are… acceptable under those circumstances. But never again. NEVER. AGAIN".

"I don't like h-hospitals" I said and he sighed, "I know you don't. But you've been there enough times to know the drill. Trust me, I'll do everything i can for you now, but your pretty beaten up". "I noticed" I grumbled and he grinned, "I thought being so close to death you might have lost your annoying humour. But I guess not". "Never lose it" I replied smirking as a cop came over, "sir? Ambulance is outside". "Thanks son" Reggie muttered and the young rook ran off again. "Come on, I'll carry you" Watson said sighing as he stood up. I glared at him, "if you so m-much as touch me. I will p-personally tell Mary all your dirty little secrets". "You wouldn't" he said narrowing his eyes. "Trust me. I would" in replied grinning, "now come up. H-help me to my f-feet". He sighed again, while Reggie laughed, before reaching down and pulling me up.

"You can't walk Sherlock" John said as I held onto his arm for support. "Can too" I shot back, taking a shaky step forward, thanking god that i didn't fall. "Come on the , put your arm around my shoulder" he muttered and i did so reluctantly, "you better not bring this up again John. EVER". "Don't worry. I won't... Not now anyway". "Watson" i warned as we got outside. Immediately the doctors rushed over and I was happy to see a familiar face. "Hey Mike" I said cheerily as the lead doctor rushed over, "a what brings you here?".

"Sherlock? Honestly? What have you done this time?" The doctor asked and I sighed, "always straight to the f-facts are you Mikey? N-Never 'hello' or 'hi'... Ah well. T-This time it was..." I trailed off confused. "The worlds most famous assassin group. He just killed them and their leader" Watson finished as Mike ushered us over to the ambulance. "T-that's it" I said happily before turning back to Mike, "what h-h-he said". "He's just lost it" Mike muttered, making me sit down. "I h-have not jjjust lost it" I argued, "I l-lost it yearsss ago". Watson laughed, patting me on the shoulder, "that, my friend, you did". Then Mike gave me an injection and man I didn't like injections. "It'll help with the pain" he explained and the pain... So much pain... Why did he have to bring it up? A sudden hit of Nausea hit me and I bent over, coughing up blood. "Dammit" Mike cursed angrily, "bloods in his lungs. We got to get him to a hospital NOW". "Come on Sherlock, your ok" John said softly, gently pushing me back into the ambulance and jumping in after me. He was quickly followed by Mike before shutting the doors and the ambulance drove off.

My vision was blackening out at the edges and I suddenly started feeling really sick. "Keep him awake" Mike ordered rushing about and Watson shook me gently, "I really want to slap you right now, but i don't think you'll appreciate it". I smiled weakly, placing my head against the cold metal walls of the ambulance. I just wanted to sleep...


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

"WAKE UP" someone yelled shaking me. I didn't care. I was tired. I wanted to sleep. That's all I wanted. "Selfish bastard. WAKE UP" they yelled again. Only one person on this whole planet can get away with calling me a Selfish Bastard. John Watson. But then everything was fading... Fading... Fading... Fading... Gone.

The first thing I noticed was pain shooting through my whole body. Gasping for breath I shot straight up, my eyes wide with fear. Where was I? Then a cool hand was placed over my chest and shoulders, and pushed me back down, "your ok. Everything's fine. Just calm down. Your alright". Hey I knew that voice. Taking deep breathes and forcing myself to relax a bit, I turned to find Watson sitting down next me. Sitting? What was I doing then? "You ok Sherlock?" He asked quietly. "Where... W-where am I?" I asked, avoiding his question. "Hospital. In France. You've been here for a week. A new record for you" he replied and I sighed, "I h-hate h-hospitals". He smiled slightly, "I know". I stared up at the white ceiling. A week. I'd been here, unconscious, for a full 7 days. Great. That's a week I'll never get back. A loud chirp interrupted my thinking and I looked over to find Magic sitting on the locker next to me. "Hey boy" I said softly, smiling slightly at the blue coloured bird. At least he couldn't judge you. He chirped again, hopping over to my shoulder, trying to sit there while I was lying down. Damn hospital bed was even annoying my bird. Slowly I reached up, ignoring my arms protest to not move, and rubbed his feathers gently, "you seriously n-need to go on a diet". "His fault. His fault" Magic chirped and I grinned looking over at John who went bright red, "I may have overfed him a little". Wait. John was taking care of him? "Where's... Where's Reggie?" I asked confused and he reached into his pocket, handing me a small envelope, "said to give you this". I already knew what It said before I opened it.

*If you are reading this

Then you may have recovered

But there are many more riddles

Left undiscovered

I wish you the best

But I must be gone

This is my last riddle

Finally I'm done

I hope you understand

Why I must leave

My brothers been avenged

That's all I wanted to see

I'm off around Europe

To where I don't know yet

But I plan on chasing BloodHearts

And killing the members that are left

You've become quiet popular

Your names on every page

Papers, news and tabloids

I see it at least twice a day

I will keep in contact

How I don't know

But Magics is now yours

And I won't take a no

Take care of him well

I know you will

Though his food and water

May cause quiet a bill

And last but not least

I bid you a goodbye

Just a man in the shadows

But I'll all ways be by your side

Reggie

PS. Hang on to John

He's a friend for life

Tell him everything that happened

And together ye'll survive*

I smiled, folding it again before turning to Watson. A friend for life. That, he was. "Hey you wanna get out of here?" I asked and he looked up smirking, "I thought you'd never ask".

Half an hour later, the doctors finally let me go. Well, Mike did. And only after he made me wear a stupid sling on my arm which was in fact broken, and have crutch for my leg. He knew when I had my mind set on something it would be very difficult to change it. So instead of letting me cause all amounts of trouble, he just let me off. "And I NEVER EVER EVER want to see you in here again" Mike said, closing the hospital door after us. "Quiet a charming fellow isn't he?" I asked and Watson laughed, about to say something but the words dying on his lips as we turned the corner. Photographers, journalist, freelance reporters, the whole lot were waiting at the gate. When they saw, the shouting and cheering and camera flashes started. "Sherlock Holmes, how does it feel to be out of hospital?" Someone asked. "What was it like taking down the worlds worst assassins?" Someone else asked. "Are you coming out of retirement?" Somebody asked. That question caught my attention. "What do you think John? For old times sake?" I asked, almost shouting over the questions being shot at us. "...It was quiet interesting" he admitted. "Interesting? I thought it was damn well brilliant" I replied and he grinned, "ok. Yea. Fine. It was brilliant". "That's a yes then?" I asked and he nodded. Raising my good hand, the crowd quietened, and I grinned "Dr. Watson and I, are, as of now, officially back in the game".

The whole crowd cheered, clapping and laughing. "See John. That wasn't so bad was it?" I asked and he smiled, "we're back in the game Sherlock". "And we're famous" I added. "Yep. We walking in the lime light now" he agreed, and i grinned, putting my arm over his shoulder as we walked down the path **towards the hoards of photographers and journalists, "We're walking in the Hall Of Fame"**

* * *

**Now its the end**

**Im finally done,**

**I hoped you like this story,**

**It really was quiet fun**

**Between Sherlocks strange ways,**

**And Watsons pure strength,**

**They killed all the BloodHearts,**

**And saved Sherlocks last breath**

**While bad at rhyming,**

**I know I may be,**

**I cant help but try**

**Its amazing you see,**

**But now its finally done,**

**I bid ye farewell,**

**To write another Fanfic,**

**Or you'll send me to hell**

**Rachel :)**


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